Working the Numbers
by Alithea
Summary: AU. Yuri. Hilde finds herself in deeper that she'd like to be while undercover.


**Title: Working the Numbers  
Rating: PG-13  
Yuri and slight Yaoi warnings.  
Characters are not mine. I am just borrowing  
Author's Note: May contain some slight OOC-ness and written as a challenge from Jilly-Chan.**

It was dark and the bar was cascading with emotion. The nerves of the remaining patrons, all big guys, all ex-soldiers, were obviously hanging by bare threads as the Lady, also known as Eleven (and the number meant everything and nothing), paced the room as her guards held their machine guns defensively. There was no doubt they would shoot on command, and indiscriminately at that.

The Lady was exactly that. She looked as if she had stepped off the cover of the latest women's magazine, wearing a tasteful maroon suit with matching heels and a white blouse, hair neatly pinned back under a lady's fedora that matched the color of the suit. And then, there were the glasses. Circular wireless frames reflecting the low light of the bar, shielding brown eyes that narrowed coldly as she passed a certain patron.

She stopped by the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. He tensed. She tightened her grip and bent down to whisper into his ear, "Hello, Septum." She grinned as the tension in the room grew. "My, my Mr. Seven how far you have come. And, here, everyone thought you were dead. Stand up please. Don't make a fuss."

The man stood up. He was burly, taller and more muscular than the rest of the men in the bar. He towered over the Lady, but shook under her gaze. He swallowed, hard. The gulp was audible through the room. He took a breath as she stepped away from him. His teeth chattered slightly as she moved behind her guards.

"Sorry, Seven, but you know how it is?" She looked over at a guard who did not have a gun but a can of gasoline in his hands. The guard moved forward and spread the gas along the floor. "When you become a number in this business you can never leave," the Lady said.

She snapped her fingers.

Machine gun fire filled the room and bodies hit the floor. As the last of the men in the bar fell to the ground the Lady stepped outside. A fire was lit behind her, engulfing the whole of the bar.

She grinned as she was let into her car. Her guards followed closely behind, and as the crew drove off the bar exploded spreading fire and glass into the streets.

Inside the car the Lady leaned back with contentment into her seat. She looked over at the young lady next to her, and removed her glasses. The young woman took the glasses and put them into an elegant case. The new smile that settled over the Lady's face was something soft and unlike the grin she had previously worn. There was a clear change in all of the woman's mannerisms. The young woman next to her, after carefully placing the glasses' case into the Lady's purse, then very meticulously removed the Lady's hat and the pins from her hair.

"All this fuss," the Lady said, her voice light and soft. "Tell me, what is it I am doing next?"

The young woman smiled as she brushed her fingers through the lady's shoulder length brown hair. "We're on our way back from dinner and drinks. We're going back to the Barg- The yacht."

"Ah yes." the Lady said, in something bordering on recollection. "Wouldn't it be nice if we could stay at a hotel instead?"

"His...His Excellency has insisted, for your safety, that you stay on the yacht tonight." The young woman paused and then added, "He does worry over you so, but perhaps another night."

"Indeed, he does and I worry for him..." She paused, looked over at the young woman and grinned, stretching out a hand to grace the young woman's cheek. "How lovely you look tonight, Hilde?"

*****

Nichol had dunked his head into the sink. It was full of ice cold water, and he rubbed at his face viciously. He stood up and looked at his reflection. Someone stood behind him. He sneered.

"Look Barton, I've just finished washing off the gore from this night's debacle." He growled and grabbed for a towel. "Twenty, goddamned, Twenty all over my face because the cops showed up and someone got an itchy trigger finger."

The young man in the doorway shrugged. "The police will find police bullets and that's it. They'll think they killed the man in their protection."

It was true, but Nichol still ended up with his face spattered in gore because of the incident. Someone in the organization was a mole. Someone close to the Lady was working for the police or the F.B.I.. He felt it in his guts. Barton handed him a clean shirt and he hid the pleasure he felt in such a simple gesture. It was damned sloppy and he knew it.

He put on the clean shirt and started to button it. Barton was a new member of the Lady's men, and that meant he would be the first one to be investigated. Nichol, being an expert at exterminating moles and rats, told himself that no matter his personal feelings he'd always do his job right.

"Look, Barton, the Lady is at the Barge now. She had quite the night with Seven, but...confidentially, she'll be a little distracted tonight, so how about we grab a beer down at the club? I hear Marquis is bringing a few of his boys down for the evening as well. Whaddaya say?"

Barton nodded.

"Good." Nichol left the bathroom and grabbed his tie off the bed and collected his hat. "I'll show you how the OZ party."

******

Hilde was in a precarious position. She was working for both sides, and she felt, as every double agent begins to feel, that she wasn't sure which side she really wanted to win any longer. That feeling was going to end up getting her killed. There was a definite mole in the organization, but it wasn't her. She had learned to be extremely careful about things. She left no trails. The thought of another mole bothered her though, because it wasn't as if she could discover who it was and properly introduce herself so that the other spy would stay out of her way.

She took a deep breath and slid out of the Lady's engulfing embrace and got dressed.

Things were getting complicated for her. Very, very complicated, in ways she was not prepared or trained for. She had had a feeling when she was first recruited that there was something _different _about Lady Une. She now knew that _different_ was just the tip of the iceberg.

The Lady was two people in one, and no one in the OZ seemed to care. In fact, she felt as if the boss, Thirteen, encouraged the spilt. It made deniability easy. It made it possible for Lady Une to act as the Oz's lawyer in court, fighting the injustice of racial stereotyping, without any knowledge of her other personality's dark and menacing predilections. In public Lady Une made statements to the press denying that the mysterious mafia assassin called Eleven even existed, but she was Eleven.

Hilde had tried to figure out a way to properly gather the evidence proving the split. It was not an easy thing to do. Even as one of Lady Une's girls she didn't have total access to information. Even as Une's favorite, and there was something terrifying and awesome about being the woman's favorite, Eleven kept things close to the chest. Eleven was the mastermind, and Eleven couldn't just be reigned in with the absence of the glasses. Hilde wasn't sure what the trigger was that called forth one personality over the other.

She dressed. She laid out Lady Une's clothing for the next day. She slipped out of the room and went on duty as a mole.

****

The bar was raucous and filled with members of the OZ.

Nichol was smoking a cigar and watching as one of Marquis's men took his fifth drink and proceeded to do his rendition of "Luck Be a Lady". He chuckled and glanced over at Barton who was watching the scene with an arched eyebrow.

"They say," Nichol laughed, "that old Otto there writes musicals. Wants to be the next Gershwin."

"Who says that?"

"Oh it's the general rumor." Nichol took a breath and looked the young man over. He tried to sense if Barton was being quiet because he was just that type of guy or if he was trying to guard something deeper. "Do you like rumors, Barton?"

"No." He waved a waitress over and ordered a shot of bourbon. "I prefer the truth."

Nichol found himself nodding. Barton wasn't a mole. He couldn't be, and now he was watching the young man a little too closely. Damned sloppy of him to do that. Damned sloppy, but the young man's features just pulled him in.

"The truth is," Barton said and leaned over to Nichol as he took his shot from the waitress. "I think we need to start looking at the people close to the Lady."

"Do you?"

"Her girls are close to sensitive information and they don't take the same oaths we do." Barton mentioned. "They aren't really part of the OZ."

Nichol's brow furrowed and he nodded. He wondered why he hadn't seen it before. It was pretty clear to him now. It had to be one of the girls.

"Her favorite," Nichol asked.

Barton shrugged. "Be careful there."

"Oh?" He inched forward and asked, "What am I missing there that makes it dangerous?"

The young man grinned and brought two fingers to his lips and parted them. Nichol's eyes went wide and the he laughed heartily, slapping Barton on the back.

"Observant! You're an observant guy, Barton." That was it though, that girl, the favorite would have to undergo some close scrutiny.

Nichol ordered another round for the group. The bar grew louder.

******

"You want to what?"

Hilde winced at the much expected overreaction from her contact. Duo looked about ready to burst into a million pieces. She put a finger to her lips and he settled into an excited calm.

"Are you nuts?" He asked softly. "I mean, really and truly nuts?"

She shook her head. He didn't even let her explain herself.

"I mean, if you do this, and remain a double for them...Good God! If you got caught Hilde!"

She took in a breath and crossed her arms over her chest. "Shut up." She commanded. "There is another mole in the organization, one that is working with much less finesse, maybe purposefully, to expose me and our operation. I don't know who it is. I have to do this, Duo. If I become one of the OZ there's less suspicion."

"But-"

"But, nothing. I'm going in deeper because that's my job. It's your job to make sure you can pull me out."

Duo looked her over. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and then sighed, smiling. "Okay. Okay. You go in deeper. I'll pull you out, but listen Hils...Make sure you're not doing this for other reasons."

She gave him a quizzical look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I didn't want to bring it up, but sometimes I wonder if maybe you're too close to the Lady."

Hilde chuckled. The chuckle grew to a malicious laugh. "Because I want to become one of the OZ?"

Duo nodded and tried to shush her quiet, but she kept laughing. People in the diner were beginning to glance their way.

Hilde stopped laughing. She shut her eyes and brushed her short black hair back with her fingers. She shook her head. "Lady Une doesn't want me to join up. Neither does Eleven. They are both against it, totally and completely."

"But you said-"

"I convinced them," she interrupted sharply, "that it was for the best, given the recent events and the suspicions of her closest officer."

Duo paled a bit. "Hilde..."

"Let me do my job, Duo. I almost have them. I almost have proof beyond my own eyewitness accounts of her condition, the split."

He nodded. "Okay. Okay you win. Just...please...be careful."

******

They walked in the rain together and Hilde held the umbrella as high as she could to keep the Lady dry. They were to go to a special club to pick up some receipts and to celebrate Hilde's new status. Lady Une was wearing her glasses, and Eleven was in control. She grinned and took the umbrella from Hilde.

"Ma'am?" Hilde questioned.

"Nichol doesn't like you, Miss Schbeiker. Do you know why?"

Her mouth hung momentarily agape and she shook her head. She knew that already. She knew that Nichol thought she was a mole. He was right, but he was also wrong. She wasn't the mole he was really looking for.

Eleven's grin stretched, showing teeth. It was not a good sign to ever be on the receiving end of that grin. "He thinks you're a spy."

"Oh, well, I am." Hilde said softly, nervous.

The Lady inched closer and drew Hilde in. She tilted her head up and stared back at her coldly, dipping her head to take Hilde's lips. She pulled away leaving the young woman panting for breath.

"Are you shocked, Miss Schbeiker?"

"Yes." It was rushed out in a breath.

"I know you're technically hers, but that does make you mine as well." Eleven said. "I've promised her that I won't let you come to harm. I need to keep that promise. I can't run the risk of her slipping back into control."

"I see." She felt as if she were a dead woman.

"She loves you, you know? She likes to pretend she loves him, but she doesn't." Eleven took Hilde's arm and held it in that notorious grip. "Look at me."

Hilde did as she was told. If Eleven knew she was a double agent it was all over. Eleven didn't let traitors live.

"As of now you are no longer a spy. That… is a direct order. As of now you are my second in command."

"What?"

Eleven smiled. "He got very close to finding you out. Nichol is a smart boy and he thinks he holds the reigns because of my condition, but he's gotten too self important. He let his guard down and so..." She paused and released Hilde's arm. She removed her glasses. The facial expression didn't change.

Hilde took in a deep breath. "It's a ruse."

The Lady nodded. "No one in their right mind would allow a split personality general in their organization, but it plays nicely doesn't it?" Her expression softened. "You have a choice to make. You've taken a serious oath and I expect you to honor it."

"And Nichol?"

"Is being dealt with." She tossed the umbrella away. "Hilde...you do so much better at my side than theirs. You have an hour. Don't disappoint me."

*****

She looked at herself in the mirror. She had only been able to get as far as a coffee shop. She tried to trace the parts of herself that were real and true. She was a double. She always had been. She was caught, and when caught a good double makes a choice and becomes one. She splashed some water on her face and then took a seat in a booth. She ordered a cup of coffee.

"My name is Barton."

She looked up and watched the young man sit down. He was one of the OZ, a newer recruit.

"I'm-"

"You're the Lady's favorite. Everyone knows that." He waved the waitress back over and ordered a coffee.

Hilde stared at him for a minute and then said, "It was you."

He nodded.

"Did you kill Nichol?"

"I did what I had to do to preserve my cover, the way you are about to do what you need to do."

She narrowed her eyes at him as he smiled up at the waitress and accepted his coffee.

"Did Duo-"

"Two, you mean?"

She sucked in a deep breath. There were too many layers to this game, names and numbers. She wanted something simple. She nodded.

"You're Three?" She asked.

He nodded.

"And I'm an expendable numberless name?"

"No, not anymore."

"Why?"

Barton took a sip from his cup. "Someone has to keep Une together. You do a bang up a job, besides, you love her...don't you?"

Her cheeks flushed from embarrassment and anger.

"It doesn't matter to me." He said.

"What do you want me to do?"

Barton, Three, smiled. "Your hour is up. She's waiting for you up at the hotel."

*****

The hotel was owned by the OZ. It was decorated in a horrible gold and plum motif. Hilde was still damp from the rain as she took the elevator up to the appropriate room. As the doors slid open she hesitated for a moment. She thought about going up to the top and jumping off. She thought of running, just running as far as she could go. Then she thought of the Lady. The real Lady who thought she was in control, and maybe she really was, maybe there never really was a split like Eleven had said, but there was a chance.

She stepped out into the hallway and walked slowly but purposefully to the room. She knocked on the door.

Eleven answered.

"Ah, Miss Schbeiker, you've made it."

The room was dark and there was a tense feeling of emotions within. A small lamp was turned on revealing two men tied to chairs with gags in their mouths. One of them was Nichol. The other was Duo.

It was a wonder she was still standing upright.

"You know Mr. Nichol of course, and the other...I believe his name is Duo, but I call him Two." She stepped over to him and pinched his bruised cheek. "Oh, Two, what a mess you've made of everything. Three's always been better at this game than you, but then again...he's working as a triple."

Eleven stepped back over to Hilde.

"I don't let traitors live, Hilde. So, here is the deal I am going to make with you." She reached out to a nearby table and grabbed something. "You need to make a choice and tell me who the real traitor is. And by tell, I mean you have to kill one of these gentlemen."

The Lady held out the object she had grabbed from the table. It was a switchblade. Hilde took it in her hand. She shut her eyes and pressed the button on the switchblade. It clicked into place and she opened her eyes again. She went to a chair and the man there looked up at her with pleading eyes, so she turned and looked at the Lady instead. She took a deep breath and drew the knife as hard as she could against the man's throat.

The Lady grinned. "Thank you, Hilde," she said softly. "You do look so beautiful in this light."

End.


End file.
